


Look Therapy

by Solnyshko_UK



Series: Look Therapy [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Angst, Supportive Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26234143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solnyshko_UK/pseuds/Solnyshko_UK
Summary: “I feel like I’m losing all my inspiration.”“I’m sorry, what?”“You heard me. I feel like I can’t surprise anybody anymore.”“You’re kidding, right? Everyone is crazy for you, whatever you do they fall on your feet and beg you for more.”“Precisely. Whatever I do. So why should I even try to create something special anymore?”“I’m not going to listen to you any longer. You just need a push, and I know exactly where you can find it. Have you ever heard about Look Therapy?”
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: Look Therapy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009575
Comments: 48
Kudos: 180
Collections: 2020 Yuuri Katsuki Week, Yuri!!! on Ice Remix Challenge 2021





	Look Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic hit me while I was walking around my hometown a few days ago, and Yuuri Week 2020 gave me the perfect opportunity to write it down. 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy it :)
> 
> (not beta-ed, because I wrote it in a rush and I don't want to miss the right day :) )

____________

“I feel like I’m losing all my inspiration.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me. I feel like I can’t surprise anybody anymore.”

“You’re kidding, right? Everyone is crazy for you, whatever you do they fall on your feet and beg you for more.”

“Precisely. Whatever I do. So why should I even try to create something special anymore?”

“I’m not going to listen to you any longer. You need a push, and I know exactly where you can find it. Have you ever heard about Look Therapy?”

____________

Yuuri hadn’t.

Nor had Phichit cared to tell him that the owner was possibly the most gorgeous man Yuuri had ever seen in his life.

Of course, now Yuuri was well aware of both things, all while trying to maintain his composure and not staring at the silver-haired man who was serving another customer with a charming smile on his face. He was tall, broad shoulders and narrow hips, long legs wrapped in perfectly tailored trousers. His skin was pale and flawless, his hair short on the back but with long bangs covering his left eye. He was indeed a sight to behold. 

Yuuri grimaced. He was wearing his favourite black, skinny jeans and a soft cream-coloured pullover that he knew suited his complexion very well. But if Yuuri knew he would meet such a gorgeous man, he might have styled his hair and swapped his glasses with the contacts he usually used to perform. 

Well, it was too late now for this, but Yuuri was going to have a strong word with his best friend later.

To distract himself, he started wandering in the shop. According to Phichit, Look Therapy was a must-go for any man who wanted to stand out the mass, find their style or improve the existing one with a personal touch. A sort of temple of fashion.

Victor, the owner, had made a name for himself by advising many VIPs and famous athletes, which had then talked enthusiastically about his talent to their friends. What was born as a side job for the Russian man, something he had started almost by chance, dressing his closest friends and taking them shopping, had now become a very profitable activity, and Victor’s full-time job. He had expanded his influence so much that he had been able to open a lovely shop in Detroit’s main street, and was often requested for private styling sessions, strictly to be booked in advance.

Yuuri thought about all of this - provided by a very well informed best friend - while walking through lines of beautiful suits and high-quality shirts. Would Victor be able to help him with what he needed? He knew that many high-level athletes asked for Victor’s advice in terms of competition costumes, like ice skaters, but still, it wasn’t quite the same, was it?

Yuuri tortured his lower lip between his teeth, feeling a familiar bubbling of worry starting in his stomach. This was a bad idea. He should leave now, before-

“Good afternoon. Sorry for making you wait. I’m Victor Nikiforov, how can I help you today?”

Yuuri nearly jumped, startled. He turned around so quickly that he tripped in his own feet while trying to take a step back. Yuuri realised in horror that he was going to fall. Backwards. Against a line of perfectly hung coats. In front of a man who was the personification of whatever Yuuri could ask for in terms of appearance.

This was a nightmare and Yuuri was going to wake up shortly, as it happened every time he had dreamt of falling. It was his only comfort.

Instead, he found a strong hand holding him by an elbow, a second hand hovering close his shoulder. The most beautiful, piercing blue eyes he’d ever seen were wide in shock, staring at him. And a mouth blessed by what looked like an incredibly soft set of lips open in a small circle as if a word had been aborted before being voiced.

“Oh my- I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

Of course, Yuuri thought, regaining his balance and trying to calm down the frantic heartbeat in his chest. Of course, Victor also had a voice that could revive a dead body and made it beg for more words.

“I- Yes, sorry, I was distracted. I’m all right. Great, actually, thanks to you.”

Yuuri groaned internally, feeling the urge to slap himself. _Get a grip, Katsuki!_

Victor retracted his hand and smiled relieved. A beautiful, heart-shaped smile.

Yuuri coughed slightly.

“So, how can I help you?” Victor repeated, his manners professional.

_Go out with me? Kiss me?_

Despite his heart screaming unhelpful things, Yuuri managed to use his brain and behave like the adult, confident man he knew he was. Usually, at least.

“I’ve been told you might be able to help me. I’m in-,“ Yuuri trailed off for a moment, thinking about how he could describe what he was going through. “Let’s say it’s a difficult moment in my profession. I lack inspiration, and I feel like I can’t surprise my audience anymore. I’ve heard it’s something you’re very good at fixing.”

Victor listened attentively, briefly nodding when Yuuri mentioned the lack of inspiration. He tapped a finger on his lips, something Yuuri found quite distracting.

“I do enjoy a good challenge,” Victor said, eyes shining with something that resembled excitement. “Care to tell me about your profession?”

Yuuri had never been ashamed of his job. Quite the opposite. He was very proud of what he had achieved, and he didn’t have any problem at all in shutting down haters or ill-informed people, the rare times he had to deal with them. Despite making a fool of himself moments earlier in front of his potential future husband (if he had to have any say in that), Yuuri was a confident 24-years-old man who knew very well how to carry himself, especially on stage. 

And yet.

Yuuri realised not without surprise that he was nervous and cared about what Victor was going to think about him after his answer. Which was utterly ridiculous, because he knew nothing about Victor and Victor knew nothing about him, and if the other man was going to be somehow disappointed or worse, so what? Yuuri could just leave and find another shop.

And yet.

“I’m-,” Yuuri stuttered and mouthed a curse under his breath, annoyed by his doubts. He then straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin slightly, determined. “I’m a pole dancer. I work at Stammi Vicino,” he ended, naming the club where he starred as the leading performer.

Victor’s eyes widened to the point they resembled teacup plates. 

Yuuri clenched his jaw in a spasm and braced himself for the adverse reaction. He was taken completely aback when Victor moved closer to him, and lifted his hands towards Yuuri’s face, letting them hover at the sides of his eyes.

“May I- ?” the man asked, with a pleading note in his faint voice.

Yuuri wasn’t sure what exactly Victor was asking, but he nodded anyway, dazed.

Victor moved his hands closer to Yuuri’s face and, with a touch as light as a feather, he removed his glasses from his nose, putting them carefully on the closest shelf, between ties arranged by colour. Then, Victor turned back to Yuuri and moved his hands again, this time threading his fingers in the soft and messy black locks that were covering Yuuri’s forehead, pushing them back like he was styling his hair.

Yuuri blinked quickly. He was struggling, a lot: Victor was so close he could feel his breath ghosting on his lips, and Victor’s fingers in his hair were doing _things_ to him. He looked at Victor looking at him until the other man gasped, his expression turning in something like awe.

“Eros…,” Victor breathed. 

Yuuri had to fight hard to avoid his knees buckling under him for the sheer force of Victor’s veneration, evident in his voice. But most of all, for the effect of hearing that smooth, deep, sexy voice calling him by his stage name. And of course, there was the simple fact of what it meant that Victor knew his stage name in the first place.

“Uhm, yes- ?” Yuuri said lamely, incapable of forming a more structured reply. 

At that, Victor jerked and recoiled, retracting his hands like he had touched something burning. Yuuri blinked, mourning the loss of contact.

“Ah- Sorry about that,” Victor recovered himself, a smile somewhat more strained than before on his lips. “It’s just- I’ve seen you. A couple of times. A few times. Maybe more than a few…” 

Victor slammed a hand in front of his mouth as he realised what he said, and muttered some Russian words, raising his eyes to the ceiling for a moment. Then, he inhaled deeply, and when he released it, his charming, professional persona was back.

“I think I have something you could like. Tell me more about your lack of inspiration?”

Yuuri, feeling lightheaded after Victor’s rambling, followed him towards another area of the shop.

____________

  
  


“Ladies and gentlemen! Be ready to be enthralled, bewitched, enchanted by the brightest star of Stammi Vicino.”

Celestino’s loud voice was drowned by screams even before he finished his introductions. Chuckling behind the scenes, the Italian owner of the club turned to Yuuri, who was ready right next to him.

“I guess there’s no need to call your name,” the man said. “Go and make them yours.”

Yuuri strode out on the stage as if he owned it. There was a collective gasp from the audience and the chant of “Eros” that was so deafening just a few moments earlier died down in shocked silence.

Yuuri grabbed the pole in the centre of the stage and swirled around it with a grace worthy of a prima ballerina. 

His torso and arms were wrapped in a sheer black fabric, so thin that it looked like a darker shade on Yuuri’s body. The material was studded with tiny white gems, giving the effect of skin covered only with a starry sky. The smallest pair of black, faux leather shorts covered Yuuri’s hips, partly hidden by a half-skirt of the same sheer, shiny material covering the upper body, only doubled with a second layer inside, this one red. The half-skirt was open on one side, leaving one of Yuuri’s legs completely bare, and came down to cover the rest only a couple of inches under the line of his backside. 

Yuuri’s hair was styled back, and his face showed complicated patterns of silver glitter that lighted up under the spotlights like the rest of his body, as he moved on the pole like he was weightless.

When Yuuri finished his performance, lowering himself on his bare feet and glancing coyly over his shoulder before walking out swaying his hips, the whole club was still immersed in a heavy, spellbound silence.

Behind the scenes, Yuuri smirked.

____________

  
  


“How did it go?” 

Victor was leaning against the counter, arms crossed in front of his chest covered by a pristine red shirt, which was clinging to his torso and shoulders in a very distracting way. A knowing smile was bending his mouth.

“You were right. It was exactly what I needed,” Yuuri said, feigning an aloofness he was far from feeling. He tried hard to keep his gaze on Victor’s face and not let it roam on his body instead.

“I have a couple of other ideas if you are interested.”

“Lead the way.”

Victor did. 

He wasn’t going to tell Yuuri he knew precisely how it went two nights earlier with that first costume he suggested him. Victor had watched him in the same shocked silence as anyone else in the club, but Yuuri didn’t need to know it.

He'd had to check for the sake of his business.

Maybe, if Victor kept telling it to himself long enough, he could end up by actually believing it.

____________

  
  


After three months of advice and costumes that had increased both Yuuri’s and Victor’s popularity in the whole of Detroit, Yuuri crossed the threshold of Look Therapy with a different purpose.

“Yuuri!” Victor chirped when he noticed the other man coming in. He finished dressing a dummy in a jacket and put a handkerchief in the front pocket, examining the final result with a critical eye. He seemed satisfied because the next moment, he turned to Yuuri, beaming. “How can I help you today? Ready for another costume?”

Since they started their collaboration, Yuuri and Victor had spent many hours talking about their lives and interests, about their dogs and their hopes for the future. They were now comfortable with each other and enjoyed the mutual company. 

But this time, Yuuri felt nervous like the first time he’d set foot in Victor’s shop.

“No, not this time,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady and pleasant.

Victor cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.

Yuuri’s tongue darted out briefly, wetting his lips. His eyes wandered briefly on the side before going back to Victor.

“I- need something nice? Not too formal, but smart? For a date.”

For a moment, Victor’s face fell. It was so quick, Yuuri could have easily missed it if he weren’t focusing so hard on the other man. Victor diverted his eyes to hide the flash of disappointment and hurt. But he was a professional and recovered quickly, as Yuuri expected. 

“Sure! Let me see. Where are you going to go?” 

Victor’s voice was forced, as it was his smile. Yuuri hoped it was a good sign.

“I’m not sure yet. I was thinking about a drink and then dinner at Selden Standard.”

Victor hummed his approval, moving towards a nice exposition of fitted shirts. He picked up a light blue one, seemed to consider it briefly and put it back down, favouring a dark blue.

“Sounds like a lovely evening,” Victor said, not looking at Yuuri and moving to choose a pair of slacks. 

“I hope so,” Yuuri answered, moving carefully not to lose sight of Victor. “I’m not sure yet if the invitation will be accepted.”

Victor scoffed, pulling out a pair of light grey slacks from a pile after checking the size. He put down both items on a table and went to look for a belt. 

“Yuuri, no sane person would refuse an invitation to go out on a date with you,” Victor said, grumbling.

Yuuri hummed non-committedly and started walking towards Victor. His hand brushed absentmindedly some clothes while passing by.

“Well, I didn’t tell him about how I feel yet. I have some suspicion I might be reciprocated, but…” Yuuri shrugged, briefly. “I guess you never know for sure until you ask.”

Victor came back towards the table with a suitable belt and a pair of shoes, dropping them a bit too harshly on the surface. The sound seemed to startle Victor, and he darted a sheepish look towards Yuuri. 

“Sorry, they slipped my hands,” Victor murmured. “I’m sure it will be fine. And this outfit should work great. It will show your assets very nicely, but you won’t feel too overdressed.”

Yuuri noticed how Victor’s hands trembled while he folded the chosen items and put them in a bag. When he pushed everything towards him, Yuuri grabbed Victor’s right hand in his, folding his fingers softly around it and brushing the thumb gently on the other man’s knuckles. Victor gasped loudly, completely taken aback.

“So now that I have an outfit,” Yuuri started talking again with a low, nervous voice, “I guess I just need to ask.”

Yuuri lifted his big chocolate-brown eyes to meet Victor’s blue, wide ones and smiled.

“Are you free on Saturday, Victor? I would love to take you on a date.” 


End file.
